


Junkyard

by orphan_account



Series: The Library [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Space Pirate AU, tumblr prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Fill for kingsdoodles prompt: "Maybe like the first time Shiro realized he was in love with Lance?"They were very generous and let me set my response in their space pirates!AU You should go check it out because it's (and they are) really cool!They were having a lucky streak lately, and had two pieces of the lions to hunt down at the same time. One piece of the green lion was supposedly floating around in a black market auction house. Considering their funds as of this morning, Shiro could only assume something straight out of Mission Impossible was going down with the others. Being an escaped convict, Shiro was too recognizable, and so had been snubbed from that particular mission. (Though, if they did ever decide to "turn him in" they probably could afford that green lion part with plenty to spare.) Lance had wholeheartedly refused to go with the others. The piece the two of them were after now belonged to the blue lion, and Shiro was pretty sure that thing meant more to him than his own skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A prerequisite of reading this fic is checking out kingsdoodles on tumblr. Not because I feel like this is unreadable on its own, but because they were kind enough to let me borrow their au and write this in the first place.

They were having a lucky streak lately, and had two pieces of the lions to hunt down at the same time. One piece of the green lion was supposedly floating around in a black market auction house. Considering their funds as of this morning, Shiro could only assume something straight out of Mission Impossible was going down with the others. Being an escaped convict, Shiro was too recognizable, and so had been snubbed from that particular mission. (Though, if they did ever decide to "turn him in" they probably could afford that green lion part with plenty to spare.) Lance had wholeheartedly refused to go with the others. The piece the two of them were after now belonged to the blue lion, and Shiro was pretty sure that thing meant more to him than his own skin.

 

Shiro wishes the others luck as he hits the button to open the back hatch of their small ship and Lance starts easing their bike down the ramp to the rocky earth below. They'll probably need it more than he and Lance do right now. The place looked like someone had decided that opening a junkyard on a remote, uninhabited planet was somehow a good idea. Shiro had found it weird at first, that a piece of the blue lion would turn up in the middle of nowhere, but now that he's gotten a look at the place, he can see how someone could have tossed a random bit of lion here. 

 

They had landed their ship down a good distance off from a veritable mountain of junk standing like a massive, black lump against the night horizon, when they had picked up a handful of lifeforms hanging around near the base. The remaining distance they would cover on the bike Lance is revving impatiently at the bottom of the ramp, kicking up a puff of dust into the surprisingly thick atmosphere. Shiro frowns but Lance only gives him a cheeky grin and motions to what he'd lovingly referred to as the "bitch seat" behind him. Shiro steps down the ramp and climbs on the bike as the ship closes up behind him. 

 

"Don't take us all the way there. Get close, but then we'll find a place to hide the bike and walk the rest of the way," Shiro says. Lance nods, then paws around for Shiro's hand until he wraps his arms around the blue paladin's slim waist.

 

"You're always so careful," Lance accuses him as he turns the bike and heads off towards the junkyard at an easy pace. "I told you about this. All we have to do is ask the owner if we can poke around. We find the part, take it with us, and the guy never has to know what he's missed out on. We'll probably get back in time to help everyone else. Chill out." Lance's casual attitude makes Shiro worry he's going to completely ignore his orders and just drive up to the front door but, to his relief, Lance does pull the bike into a thick patch of tall, wheat-like grass and turns it off. He pulls off his goggles and loops them over the handlebars while Shiro does the same. 

 

"Alright. Now sneak in, pick up my baby, and right back out," Lance hops off the bike and Shiro has to rush after him before he loses him in the grass. "No muss. No fuss." 

 

The "fuss" however, starts up almost as soon as they find a hiding spot behind a wrecked shipping crate near the edge of the junkyard. Shiro peeks around the end of the crate and takes stock of the action. A thin trail of smoke rises from a fire in the middle of a small camp. He counts five aliens lingering around it. About as tall of himself, but looking like something that reminds him of a bipedal mix of skunk and weasel. A sleek and long body balanced on short, thin legs with a long fuzzy tail nearly dragging the ground behind them. Their faces are pointed and sly looking with deep set but bright eyes. They vary in color from white to black to differing shades of brown. Two crouch near the fire, two walk around the perimeter of camp, all of them armed with short spears in their hands and small blasters tucked in their belts. One more lingers around on the far side of their camp, looking over something he can't quite see. 

 

"Shiro!" Lance hisses. He hooks his fingers into Shiro's cloth belt and tugs it lightly to get his attention. When Shiro pulls back into hiding and looks at him, Lance holds out his datapad. The faces of all the aliens in camp are on the screen, each with a short list of crimes and a number listed beneath. Bounties, along with the Galra script he recognizes from his own bounty, even without Pidge's translations alongside it. Extremely dangerous. "These guys are bandits! They're wanted for hijacking Galra cargo ships and reselling the goods!" Shiro thinks over that for a beat.

 

"So, they're pirates?" he asks. He can't resist. Lance's expression twists into something almost unreadable. Either like he wants to laugh or wants to smack Shiro upside the head. He settles for an irritable sigh. 

 

"No, they're bandits. Thieves. Whatever. Pirates have a code of conduct and," Lance motions to himself, "a sense of decency. A purpose greater than monetary gain." Shiro doesn't look impressed and Lance growls. 

 

"That guy has a piece of my lion! It's," he looks around the crate and Shiro follows him. The one at the far side of camp has now moved, holding something roughly the size of a microwave. Lance points at it. "It's that thing!" It glows a dull blue as he carries it towards the fire and barks something to the two resting there. They start motioning around it, seeming confused as to why it's suddenly started reacting. It must be picking up Lance's essence and started calling to him. Shiro doesn't know if he should be thankful that they don't have to dig through this entire mess of junk to find it or cursing that it's already in the hands of dangerous aliens. 

 

"Listen Lance," Shiro starts once they pull back behind cover. "How do you suggest we take care of this?" He already knows what he's going to do, but it never hurts to ask for the opinions of others before he starts making orders. Lance knows this, and frowns lightly. 

 

"You're gonna tell me to make a distraction while you go in and steal it," he says, his voice slightly downtrodden. Shiro has to give it to him for already knowing what he's thinking. A year of working together has formed them all into a tight knit team. "But…there's only five of them. And they look pretty spindly. We should just spook them, take the thing and run. It'll only take us a few minutes to get back to our bike, and then they can't catch us." 

 

"But it only takes them a couple seconds to shoot you in the back," Shiro chides him gently. Lance's mouth fights not to pout. Shiro gently grips his shoulder, feels soft blue silk over warm skin. "It's just the two of us right now. We're outnumbered, so we have to be safe as we can with this." Lance rolls his eyes and when he sets his cheek on Shiro's hand Shiro warms in his chest and squeezes him firmly. 

 

"Go around that way," Shiro says, pointing behind them. "Be careful not to let them see you. Three minutes from now, make some noise. It doesn't matter how you do it, just try not to let them know your exact location. While they're distracted, I'll hop in, grab the part, and we'll meet at the bike." He claps Lance firmly on the shoulder. "Let's go." 

 

The ferret-looking aliens have mostly lost interest in the cube by the time Shiro is nearing a good place to spring into action. They've left it resting near the fire and now it glows a duller blue, likely because Lance has moved farther away from camp. They're not paying much particular attention to it, but it's still in the middle of camp. Shiro kneels beside a rusted out barrel of small engine parts not far out of the ring of light made by their campfire. His Galra hand is free and ready to activate at a moment's notice. 

 

Something sails through the crisp night air, little more than something blocking out the twinkle of a few stars for a couple seconds. It lands in the mangled heap of junk, sending small bits of shrapnel raining over the camp. The bandits startle, take up their spears as Lance throws another object with a loud clatter. 

 

"Where?" one bandit squeaks to another. They hold their heads low as they squint into the darkness, their spears ready. Lance once again throws something, this time from a slightly different spot. He's moving around so they can't find him quickly. A heavy crate tumbles down the mountain and through the center of camp, scattering the fire into a fountain of embers around the blue lion part. The two bandits startle back, then break apart in different directions around the fire. The path between Shiro and their goal is clear. 

 

He hops out hiding, ducking through a mess of coals and flying junk. Through this chaos, he doesn't expect anyone to realize he's here. He'll grab the box and they'll be gone with the aliens none the wiser.

 

He's within arm's reach of the box when pain flares up his side and nearly sends him tumbling into the glowing fire pit. The bandit's black fur nearly disguises him completely against the night sky. His eyes glow a sickly green, small, white teeth glowing in the faint light of the scattered fire. He holds his spear point over Shiro's throat, brings it back-

 

Bright blue zips through the air and strikes the bandit full in the chest. It knocks him back and he drops his spear. He screeches, smoke rising from his singed fur as he stumbles back. The others start chattering orders to each other in the dark as another blast kicks up dust at the alien's feet in front of him. 

 

"Shiro!" Lance's voice rings out somewhere outside of camp. Shiro looks around as he flips over and tries to get back to his feet. The embers he landed on burn the backs of his arms and eat through his vest to bite at his skin. Lance stands on top of the container they first approached, keeping the other four bandits in check with rapid fire from his bayard. "Let's go. Forget the piece! We have to get out of here!" He twitches his bayard and sends up several puffs of dust and ash near Shiro, putting out the last lights of the ruined fire and hiding Shiro's movements. 

 

Coughing, Shiro squints through the acrid cloud and looks for a way out. The lion piece is right beside him. He claws desperately through hot dust until the box lights up a brilliant blue, just past his hand. Shiro grabs it, hauls it up with him and sprints out of the camp. He doesn't even stop to look if the bandits are following him; he can't do anything about it anyways. Both his hands are occupied lugging the fragment with him, ice cold where he holds it against his chest. All he can do is pray that no one shoots him in the back and that Lance is following him. 

 

He's within sight of the grass they hid the bike in when Lance gives a breathless, whooping cry behind him. Relief floods through Shiro and he nearly stumbles as he makes it to the grass. He groans as he hears Lance rustle into the hiding spot with him. He nearly drops the box, sets it down on the ground beside the bike at the last second. 

 

"Shiro! You got it!" Lance giggles. He slams into Shiro's back and his legs, burning from the hard run, give out from under him. They both crumple to the ground, dragging in ragged breaths of each other's air. "That was amazing!" Shiro can only wheeze. 

 

Lance helps him roll, puffing, onto his back and hugs him tight around his neck, still laughing. "Oh my God. That was awful. But also so cool! Are you okay? You're freezing!" Lance's words all run into each other as he sits up and cups Shiro's face.

 

"Are they still following us?" Shiro asks. Lance's wide grin drops somewhat and he's quiet long enough that Shiro can think about how warm his hands are on his cheeks. How his hair flutters against the night sky. How pretty he is framed by stars and tall, fine stalks of grass. How bright and happy and triumphant his eyes are and what's happening to his heart? 

 

"No. They gave up pretty quick when I laid down some covering fire as we were leaving. I haven't seen any of them in a while," Lance admits. He seems more serious now, concerned, and Shiro berates himself for distracting him from that vibrant happiness he'd just showed him. 

 

"You were awesome," Shiro says quietly, emphasizing every word. "I completely fell apart when one of them caught me. I didn't do anything but make a mess but you… you really saved my skin. You handled that perfectly!" Lance blushes brightly at the praise, his eyes slip off to the side. Shy. He sucks his lip between his teeth and Shiro's breath catches in his throat. He wants to touch him. Pull him close. Praise him all the time just to see him happy. 

 

"You got the piece..." Lance says quietly when it catches his eye. It pulses a dull blue and, when Lance lays his hand on it, ice crystals form on the ground just under it, freezing the grass into brittle strands. 

 

"Why'd you tell me to leave it?" Shiro asks. Lance glaces at him, then back to the box. Lance shifts off of him then and picks up the box to strap it securely onto their bike. Shiro gives him plenty of time before he realizes Lance doesn't want to answer. He sits up and joins Lance, sets his hand on his back. "How come? That's… that's why we came out here in the first place." 

 

"Because if we left it, we could always come back and find it later. They would probably just sell it and we could track it down when things were safer," Lance admits, pouting at the bike and shrugging. "If...if something happened to you, I couldn't just come back and find you later. You'd be gone," he's quiet for several seconds. "I was scared of losing you." 

 

"Thank you," Shiro says softly. He gives in to his urges and the hand on Lance's back slides around his waist and pulls him close. "I'm happy to know you have my back." He licks his lips, thinks, then presses his mouth to Lance's shoulder. Not quite a kiss, but enough to make Lance jump in surprise against him, warm and solid against this cool skin. Lance relaxes after a second and turns enough to wrap his arms around Shiro's chest and hug him back tightly. 

 

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly. Shiro hums in contentment and they stand there next to the bike, soaking each other in. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at quiddid on both tumblr and twitter.


End file.
